


New

by CoffeeAndTae



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, Dry Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6512635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAndTae/pseuds/CoffeeAndTae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haise + Some dry humping with the reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	New

This is so new to him. Every part of him begs to be touched, every inch of his skin teems with fizzled out short circuits and he knows that THEY know he’s trembling, and he can’t help it. Their body sings to him, and he hates that he’s so anxious and fit to burst like a fucking teenager when it comes to venturing further into a physical relationship.

“Haise,” They murmur, sensing his nerves and stroke his arms to soothe him. “What are you thinking about?”

Haise laughs, and immediately wants to club himself over the head. He’s the person that laughs in the face of the unknown, especially when it comes to his feelings. Not because he finds it funny, no - just because he’s so nervous and they’re so perfect and have they always been this beautiful and -

“Haise?”

“Um, sorry,” He says sheepishly, embarrassment burning in every nook and cranny of his body. “I’m new to this. This is - you’re like… ridiculously attractive.”

He blurts everything that’s on his mind and fights the urge to clamp his hand over his mouth, but his partner simply titters like they find it endearing.

“Well… I’m okay to keep going if you are, and we don’t even have to take our clothes off if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Wha - “ Haise splutters unintelligently, face twisting into a question.

“Here, like… this.” They say slowly, gently rocking their hips up to meet his. “Just… like this.”

A red flag and several sirens are sounding off in Haise’s mind and he knows that he’s excited to feel them, but there’s also the part of his brain that’s screaming - “You’re going to embarrass yourself.”

He mashes into his bottom lip and worries the flesh between his teeth as he tries to concentrate on the situation. His partner looks at him with love and adoration and it makes him more at ease, but he doesn’t want to do something wrong.

“Haise, just try.” They encourage. 

His cock aches in his trousers and he doesn’t want to do something wrong, some people get scared of dicks, right? It’s not right to just press the thing - oh - that felt nice… what were they - oh fuck -

His partner giggles as they rock their hips against his and dig their hands into the smooth fabric at his backside, forcing him against them. His mouth falls open and his head falls to the crook of their neck, his static hair tickling their face and making them giggle even more.

“Just like - ah - that,” they moan softly, and the sound does nothing to help the problem Haise is facing.

He eventually gets the hang of it, though his movements are sloppy and lack rhythm, but they find a pace that slowly strokes the fire, building and building until it becomes a blazing inferno. Haise’s mind is so scattered, he’s thinking about how they feel, listening to how they sound - they’re like a fucking siren - and the scent of them - every part of them calls to him and his senses are on overdrive. It’s as if he’s a robot that’s been overloaded with a faulty data chip, and every part of him is short-circuiting in the face of this new, exciting feeling.

“Just like that, Haise, yes - you’re so good, so good -” 

Their voice is a catalyst for quite possibly the biggest explosion his body has ever felt, and within a few moments, his hips begin rutting against theirs and he’s chasing something so great and so wonderful that all of his insecurities melt away until he’s nothing but a bucking mess, whining and making noises he’d never make in public. His mouth hangs open and he stills, driving against them so hard that the fabric of his jeans is rubbing against his thighs, but he doesn’t care. His eyebrows knit together and he comes, staining the font of his boxers like a fucking teenager. He pants, the measure of his breathing out of sync and his heart is beating at an alarming rate.

“This is so embarrassing,” he mutters, ashamed, and his partner laughs.

“THIS? Is fine. Those jokes? They’re embarrassing, you huge dork. But… it’s okay.” They lovingly smooth some hair away from his forehead and grin at him. “You’re my dork.”


End file.
